Were mottled from the needle's scar where she Had shot the opiates of her lying soul; How asking truth, she was herself untrue; How she, adventuress in the war, had sought From lust grown stale, renewal of herself. And then at last I saw her scullery brows Fail out and fade beside the Republic's face, And leave me free upon the hills, who saw, Strong, seeking cleanliness in truth, her hand Which sought the cup worn smooth by leper lips Dipped in the fountain where the thirst of many Passionate pilgrims had been quenched, Not lifted up by me, nor yet befriended By the cleaner cup I offered. Now you think That I am hard. Philosophy is hard, And I philosophize, admit as well That I have failed, am full of faults myself, All faults, we'll say, but one, I trust and pray The fault of falsehood and hypocrisy."... "I gave my work in Paris up--that day Made ready to return, but with this thought To use my wisdom for the war, do work For America that had no touch of her, No flavor of her nature, far removed From the symphony of sex, be masculine, Alone, and self-sufficient, needing nothing, No hand, no kiss, no mate, pure thought alone Directed to this work. I found the work And gave it all my energy." "From then I wrote her nothing, though she wrote to me These more than hundred letters--here they are! Since you have mine brought to you from New York All written before she went to France, I think You should have hers to make the woman out And read her as she wrote herself to me. The rest is brief. She cabled when she sailed, And wrote me from New York. While at LeRoy With Irma Leese she wrote me. Then that day She telephoned me when she motored here With Irma Leese, and said: 'Forgive, forgive, O see me, come to me, or let me come To you, you cannot crush me out. These months Of silence, what are they? Eternity Makes nothing of these months. I love you, never In all eternity shall cease to love you, Love makes you mine, and you must come to me Now or hereafter.'" "And you see at last My soul was clear again, as clean and cold As our March days, as clear too, and the war Stood off envisioned for the thing it was. Peace now had come, which helped our eyes to see What dread event the war was. So to see This woman with these eyes of mine, made true And unpersuadable of her plaints and ways I gave consent and went."